


A Quick Trip to the Loo

by almondjoyz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Drabble, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-War, Public Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-02
Updated: 2008-02-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:25:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almondjoyz/pseuds/almondjoyz
Summary: Um, read the title





	A Quick Trip to the Loo

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for Valentine's Challenge at Flist-a-Fest on Live Journal with the prompt of 'LUST.'

She's a minx.

 

She's a tease.

 

She sits there, looking at you with those big, brown eyes that look like melted chocolate, knowing that what she's doing to you under the table with her foot and your crotch ought to be considered illegal in the civilized world.

 

But you just sit there, trying to speak to her brother and his girlfriend in a tone of voice that won't give you away. You hope that they don't notice the fact that your voice has gone up and down like it did when you were thirteen or that you've been wiggling around in your chair like there's a Blast Ended Skrewt too close to your privates.

 

But that Blast Ended Skrewt is Ginny.

 

And she knows exactly what to do with those talented toes. You thank whatever god there is that she has the unique ability to pinch with her big toe while cursing the same god that she can. She has magic toes, she does. Hell, she's magic herself.

 

Ron's cleared his throat and you look over to him. He wears a disgruntled look on his face, directed at his devilishly sexy sister, but he doesn't need to know you're thinking that. It would be too awkward. Well, maybe not as awkward as him discovering that she has her big toe wrapped around your cock underneath the table.

 

"What?" she asks, teasing her mouth with a breadstick. 

 

You groan as you imagine that the breadstick is your cock and her lovely, lush, full lips are wrapped around it, squeezing with just the right amount of suction, sliding up and down with delicate precision, swirling her strong tongue against the hot throbbing flesh until all your self-control fails and you…

 

"Excuse me," you say, standing up from your chair, sending her off-balance. You clutch the cloth napkin in front of you, not caring that everyone in the restaurant knows what's happened inside your trousers.

 

You break out in a half-run to the restroom and hide yourself in one of the stalls to calm your breathing and clean yourself up. A crack just outside the door of the stall tells you she's arrived. The door opens from the outside and there she is, licking her lips with that tongue that tastes like bubblegum when it's shoved down your mouth as you kiss.

 

"Problem?" she asks coyly, stepping up to you and wrapping her arms around your waist, her hands drifting inside the waistband.

 

"You are a tease."

 

She shakes her head at you. "When have I never followed through on something, Harry?"

 

Ginny's hands snake around to the fly and quickly undo the button and the zipper, pulling them down with flourish. Your cock is growing again, poking through the slit of the boxers she gave you for Christmas, the ones that glow in the dark with the words "Suck Here" emblazoned on the fly. You smile as you remember that Christmas and the horror you experienced as she doused the lights, making the words shine brightly in the sitting room of The Burrow.

 

Your brain stops working as she goes to work on your cock, bringing it back to full strength with her glorious mouth. The suction and friction of her lips makes you moan and you throw your head back, knowing that it won't be long until you release.

 

But somewhere in the depths of your mind, you want more. You want her.

 

"Gin—" 

 

You bend a bit put your arms under her armpits and drag her up to stand in front of you. Your hands frantically search for the hem of her skirt, lifting it up to her waist and you swear as you discover she's got no knickers on tonight. 

 

"Bad boy," she purrs as she jumps up and wraps her long, sensuous legs around your waist. 

 

Your mouth crashes onto hers, teeth clashing, but you don't care. The smell of her permeates the air, making the lust inside you increase one hundred fold. A hand drifts down to her folds and you discover she's dripping wet already. You finger her clit, eliciting kitten-like mews from her throat, which only serves to increase your need. Your knees bend of their own will and you sit down upon the toilet and shift so that she's right over your cock. With painful slowness, she slides down, surrounding you with her tight, moist heat. With frantic thrusts, the two of you grind and gyrate your hips to an ancient rhythm only you two know until your moans and her screams echo through the tiled restroom.

 

As the reverberations die down, you hold her close and blaze a trail of kisses down her neck, careful not to suck her flesh into her mouth. Your hands caress her smooth arse cheeks that you've decided are the roundest, fullest and most succulent pieces of flesh in the world.

 

"Better?" she asks before sucking on your earlobe. All you can do is nod and close your eyes. "It was the toes, wasn't it?"

 

"Mrumpht."

 

"I'll take that as a 'yes.'" 

 

Without another word, she slides off you and casts a cleansing charm on her and then you. She smiles and straightens her clothing before stepping out of the stall to leave you alone to gather your composure. As the door closes, your head falls back against the white tiled wall and you exhale roughly.

 

Lust is a wonderful thing.


End file.
